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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27852102">mind to mouth</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluelions/pseuds/lovebot'>lovebot (bluelions)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Background Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou - Freeform, Bodyswap, Kinda, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:22:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,522</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27852102</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluelions/pseuds/lovebot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Atsumu consults Osamu about his crush on Komori. Osamu's only form of help is taking him to his supposedly psychic boyfriend, Suna.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Komori Motoya/Miya Atsumu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>mind to mouth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>me: i'm gonna write an atsumu so full of dumb</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Speak to me, brother,” Osamu prompts without passion. “I don’t have all day.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu has decided to cash in his monthly “seek help from Osamu” breakdown (self-granted, mind you) on a fine Thursday afternoon. He loves his brother, no, really, but there’s got to be more to life than curling up on your twin’s sofa every four weeks wailing about this and that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just don’t think this can be helped,” Atsumu stresses. He’s face down in the cushions, waving his hand about as Osamu putters around in the kitchen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then why are you here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because I’ve been coping with it on my own for weeks! I’m losing my mind, Samu.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m gonna take a wild guess and say this is about somebody you’re into.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu shoots up with a shocked expression. “How did you know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because it’s the only thing you get stupidly embarrassed over!” Osamu sighs and leans against the counter. “Look, I don’t know what it is, but I’ve seen you through all of your crushes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Against my will,” Atsumu mutters. He flips over onto his back and stares at the ceiling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, spit it out now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Komori Motoya. Same year, communications major. He’s in my English class.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu hums. “Dunno who that is. What’s wrong with ‘im?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s chest threatens to crumple in on itself just thinking about him. Osamu was right. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>does </span>
  </em>
  <span>get stupidly embarrassed when it comes to a crush. “There’s nothing wrong! He’s cute and funny, and he plays volleyball too. We’ve gone out a few times, but I just… I don’t know if he likes me back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu returns to the living room with sandwiches and places a plate in front of Atsumu. “Sounds like you think he likes you back, and you’re just scared,” he offers. “What’d you guys do?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We have lunch and study together sometimes,” Atsumu starts, sitting up and staring at his sandwich. No tomatoes. Triangle-shaped. Perfect. “He’s like really smart, but he never brings his jacket to the library. I always end up giving him mine. Sometimes he falls asleep, so I just take him back to his dorm and let him keep it. Oh, we made out once, but like it was only one time. I don’t think it m-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu’s fingers grip the edge of Atsumu’s plate and yank it away before he can even touch the bread. “Are you fucking serious right now?” he hisses.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu frowns, reaching for his well-deserved meal. Osamu slaps his hand and earns a yelp. “Hey! What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You guys are like that and you don’t think…” Osamu trails off, staring into Atsumu’s bewildered eyes. Oh, Atsumu. He’s so friend-shaped it’s kicked some brain cells out. “You know what, nevermind. I can help you. We’re going to see my boyfriend.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You have a boyfriend?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Apparently, Osamu’s boyfriend is a psychic, or so he’s been told. Atsumu was entirely skeptical about the whole thing and more focused on the </span>
  <em>
    <span>existence </span>
  </em>
  <span>of said boyfriend, but now, standing in Suna Rintarou’s apartment, he can kinda see it. Suna and Osamu are still wrapped up in each other’s arms, but Suna’s eyes bore holes into him over Osamu’s shoulder. Atsumu shudders.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, you’re the twin,” Suna says once they’ve parted. He looks him up and down before patting Osamu on the arm. “Good job, babe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu doesn’t know if he should be offended and looks to Osamu for clarification, but he’s equally confused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His apartment is much smaller than Osamu’s, but Suna seems to have roommates judging by the closed rooms they pass. Low voices can be heard, indecipherable. They follow Suna into his own bedroom. It’s plain, but out of the corner of his eye, he catches Osamu kicking a suspicious box beneath the bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been told you’re confused about some feelings a certain someone may or may not have,” Suna starts, ushering Atsumu to sit on his bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh, yes. We’re not- This isn’t gonna be anything weird, is it? It’s not going to hurt?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nah, don’t worry.” Suna rolls his desk chair over and sits in front of him. “I’m just going to do a little… memory diving. It may tingle. Do you have a picture of him?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu scrolls through his phone and offers a picture of Komori sleeping in the library; his head is pillowed by a black sweater, the same one Atsumu currently wears. Suna stares at it. He casts a glance at Osamu, who shrugs, before sighing. “Well, this will be easy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s that supposed to-” Atsumu is effectively shut up when Suna slaps his palm over his forehead. His eyes roll to the back of his skull, and everything goes black.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It does tingle, starting from the bones of his ankles and up his spine, leaving prickling flesh in its wake. His body slips away. He almost cries out, but his consciousness is returning and not to Suna’s bedroom. Atsumu is sitting outside at a very familiar table near his English classroom. There’s a spread of fast-food and notecards and notebooks before him. This is a memory from earlier this week, Atsumu realizes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tries to move, but his body does not obey, instead following the motions of a day already passed. When his vision finally pans up he nearly chokes. He’s staring at his own body across the table, which means right now he’s…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tsumu,” Komori calls, and it’s strange to feel his own name in a mouth that is and isn’t his. “What’d you put for this one?” The syllables are more defined, brighter, almost loving.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He watches his body look up and begin explaining, but Komori doesn’t seem to be completely listening nor paying attention to words on his paper. His eyes stay resolutely on Atsumu, tracing the line of his jaw and the sweep of his hair and the jut of his knuckles. Atsumu wants to grimace; scrutinizing your own face and body is not always full of positive thoughts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I dunno. Does that make sense?” Atsumu asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm, yeah, that helps. Thanks!” Komori says despite himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They catch each other’s eyes and share a smile. At that moment, the Atsumu in Komori’s body is subjected to an overwhelming wash of warmth. He is absolutely bodied by this emotion. It crashes on the shores of his heart, relentless and rapidly flooding. He feels his toes drum in his shoes and the strain of keeping his expression neutral.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This fondness, this overbearing affection for such a mundane three seconds of his life, shocks Atsumu to his core because these feelings are not unfamiliar to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Komori holds his gaze even once Atsumu has turned away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Atsumu returns to the present in Suna’s dim bedroom he feels like he’s floating. “Welcome back, stupid,” Osamu greets.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suna removes his hand from Atsumu’s face and asks, “Did that clarify everything? I just sent you back to your most recent memory of him and hoped for the best.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. No, yeah, thank you,” Atsumu breathes out, still reeling from this new revelation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu decides to call Komori out for a date the next day. Well, Komori doesn’t know it’s a date, but if Atsumu wants it to be a date then Komori would also want it to be a date, too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s just coffee and a trip to the store, but when Atsumu shows up at Komori’s door, they’re both dressed nicely. Atsumu catches the quick once over Komori gives him and struggles to keep still; it’s different when you know explicitly how you’re being looked at.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” Komori greets, smiling small. “Had enough of homework?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, somethin’ like that,” Atsumu mumbles.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They start for the stairs with quiet chatter. Komori’s hand wiggles it’s way down Atsumu’s arm before fitting itself in his hand. This is normal. This is typical. This is completely fine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe not.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu stops them before they can leave the building and pulls him aside. He places his hands on Komori’s shoulders and very seriously says, “I can’t do this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Komori looks confused, but Suna’s psychic trick has made him violently attuned to Komori’s quirks. He looks amused, but he feels scared beneath his palms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I really like you. I actually like you so much,” Atsumu confesses. “I thought you didn’t like me back, but like now I know, and it’s a weird story, but I like you! I- will you- do you want to date?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Komori blinks slowly. “Tsumu, I thought we were dating.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” Atsumu squeaks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“-and yeah, like I guess I confessed at this party we went to before. I didn’t remember! I think I thought I imagined it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu stares at his phone where Atsumu’s voice is coming from. He is not supposed to call upon Osamu </span>
  <em>
    <span>twice </span>
  </em>
  <span>a month. The red button is looking very tempting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sheets rustle and Suna pokes his head up. “Just hang up. Please.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I heard that! Shut up, Suna!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suna reaches over and hangs up for him. Osamu frowns. “I think that’s gonna come back to bite me,” he says.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t care,” Suna mumbles and drags him back to bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All is well for the Miya twins.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i woke up this morning, thought about atsukomo, thought about the sunaosa fics i'm /supposed/ to be writing, thought "lol what if suna was psychic", and then this was born</p><p>thanks for reading! you can find me on twitter <a href="https://twitter.com/softresetter"> @softresetter</a> :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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